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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"New Arabian Nights"

I called her by name with the most endearing
inflections; I chafed and beat her hands; now I laid her head low,
now supported it against my knee; but all seemed to be in vain, and
the lids still lay heavy on her eyes.
"Northmour," I said, "there is my hat. For God's sake bring some
water from the spring."
Almost in a moment he was by my side with the water. "I have
brought it in my own," he said. "You do not grudge me the
privilege?"
"Northmour," I was beginning to say, as I laved her head and
breast; but he interrupted me savagely.
"Oh, you hush up!" he said. "The best thing you can do is to say
nothing."
I had certainly no desire to talk, my mind being swallowed up in
concern for my dear love and her condition; so I continued in
silence to do my best towards her recovery, and, when the hat was
empty, returned it to him, with one word - "More." He had,
perhaps, gone several times upon this errand, when Clara reopened
her eyes.
"Now," said he, "since she is better, you can spare me, can you
not? I wish you a good night, Mr. Cassilis."
And with that he was gone among the thicket. I made a fire, for I
had now no fear of the Italians, who had even spared all the little
possessions left in my encampment; and, broken as she was by the
excitement and the hideous catastrophe of the evening, I managed,
in one way or another - by persuasion, encouragement, warmth, and
such simple remedies as I could lay my hand on - to bring her back
to some composure of mind and strength of body.


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